A Very Nice Man
by Kissman
Summary: Inverness, 1896. A story about the first time Elsie Hughes turned down Joe Burns.


**This story came out of a conversation early this morning trying to (****_once again_****) narrow down when Elsie Hughes came to Downton. These are the facts:**

**1. ****It's implied by Mr. Carson that her arrival is after the birth of Sybil Crawley by his line to Mrs. Hughes after Sybil's death****_: "I knew her all her life you see."_**** Based on Sybil's birthday, the earliest Mrs. Hughes can arrive is after August 1895. **

**2. ****Mrs. Hughes turned Joe Burns down for her position at Downton. She says: ****_"_****_Before I first came here as head housemaid, I was walking out with a farmer. When I told him I'd taken a job at Downton, he asked me to marry him. I was a farmer's daughter from Argyle, so I knew the life. He was very nice. But then I came here and I—I did well, and I...I didn't want to give it up. So, I told him no, and he married someone else."_**** (1x04) **

**3. ****Joe Burns has a son, Peter, who had joined the army as of June 1913. (1x04) Age of enlistment at the time was 18. Assuming Peter didn't lie to enlist, he was born ****at the latest**** in June 1985. **

**Taken together, this suggests that Peter existed when Elsie turned Joe down the first time. And so this fic was born. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

><p>Inverness, 1896<p>

_These shoes were decidedly not made for running_, Elsie thought to herself as she shot through the garden, careful to keep from stepping on the newly planted rows of cabbage. She knew she should slow down, but she didn't want to be late. He'd sent a note saying ten thirty and it was already that now. She would have left the house sooner, but the post contained a rather important letter that morning, and she had been distracted. When she came to the edge of their property she looked down the lane and spotted his cap.

_Drat_, thought Elsie. She hated to leave him waiting for her, especially when he'd been the one to ask her to come. Elsie slowed her run to a walk, trying to catch her breath and smooth down any flyaway pieces of hair that had slipped from her bun. (A pointless endeavor if ever there was one, what with her curls.) Joe was waiting patiently for her, as always, by the post box.

"There she is!" he said cheerfully, when she came into view.

"I'm sorry, I'm late," she said, apologetically.

Joe pretended to look at an imaginary pocket watch and gave her and comically stern look. "10:31, Miss Hughes. I'm afraid this is quite unacceptable. There will be-" and here he lost the exaggerated posh accent he'd been putting on for her, "-strict repercussions for this."

"Oh go on with you," she laughed, giving him a swat on the arm.

"Is that any way to treat a gentleman?" he asked, his eyes dancing as he teased her.

"Do gentlemen usually have so much mud on their shoes?" she threw right back, gesturing at his well-worn boots.

"I'll have you know I'm mighty offended by that, especially coming from a woman with a splattering of mud on her skirt."

"Oh, have I?" exclaimed Elsie in alarm.

"Just a touch love, it's hardly noticeable," he soothed, giving her a very quick kiss on the cheek. Elsie blushed. She always blushed when he did that. She couldn't help it. "Shall we?" said Joe, offering her his arm.

"All right then," smiled Elsie, taking it. No matter how many times they went for a walk, and they'd been for many months now, she always felt delighted by such a public display of affection from this kind man.

"I've a bit of time this morning if you do. Peter is with his grandmother. I thought we might go to the river."

Elsie raised her eyebrows. "Bit farther than usual, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I know a shortcut. I have something I want to talk to you about in private. If you can spare the time, of course."

That was the thing about Joe; he could go from teasing to loving to quietly serious in the span of seconds. Elsie nodded to him. "I can," she said. "Besides I have something to tell you too." The letter from this morning burned in her pocket. She was dying to tell him, but wasn't quite sure how he'd react. It was good news. Maybe.

As they walked, they stuck to lighter topics than the ones really on their minds. The steadily warmer weather, that his first crop of radishes were already in, and of course Peter. Joe's five-year-old son was inevitably a topic of conversation.

"You'll never guess what the lad did yesterday," sighed Joe.

"I'm sure I won't," said Elsie. "Go on, tell me."

"I left him alone to finish his tea. He only had some mashed potatoes and a few beets left anyways, and I needed to see to the chickens before the daylight disappeared…well when I came back the mashed potatoes were gone - as expected seeing as it's all the boy wants to eat these days - and the beets were gone also, but he hadn't eaten them."

"Oh, dear," said Elsie. "Where did they end up?"

"Well, wouldn't you know it the little devil had mashed them into paste and smeared it on the wall!" bemoaned Joe. "And then he has the nerve to ask me if we've any more!"

"And had you any more?" asked Elsie innocently.

"You two must be in cahoots against me."

Elsie giggled. "You have to admit it's a wee bit funny, Joe."

"It might be a wee bit funny, IF I had any idea how to get it off the wall," he lamented.

"Cold water didn't work then?"

"It worked on him, cleaning him up was first priority. Made him stand outside on the porch stark naked and poured a bucket of water on his head, I did."

"Joe Burns you did not! In this weather!" It wasn't that warm yet, not by a long shot.

"Course I didn't," Joe laughed. "But I wanted to. Would have been faster. Anyways I left the walls overnight and now it's stuck on. Me Ma'm is going to be appalled."

"She hasn't seen it yet?"

Joe shook his head. "I dropped Peter off at her place this morning for a visit. But she'll see it soon enough."

"Tell you what. I'll come by this afternoon with a bit of detergent and give you a hand with it."

Joe stopped short. "You mean it?"

Elsie shrugged. "Why not? It can't be any worse than getting it off sheets."

"I knew I loved you for a reason," remarked Joe, wrapping his arm around her and giving her shoulders an affectionate squeeze.

"Is my ability to remove stains the top of the list?" questioned Elsie, feeling quite bold and quite happy in that moment. They were far away from anyone else, Joe's shortcut having taken them down into the valley and right to the edge of the river.

"Absolutely not," he said seriously. "Elsie would you sit with me?"

Elsie nodded, and the Joe spread out his coat on the ground for the two of them. Elsie sat down next to him, as close as she dared, her leg pressed against his. He'd gotten very serious again; he was doing that a lot lately.

"You know I love you for many other reasons too, don't you lass?" he asked her. Elsie bit her lower lip, his intense gaze making her feel terribly excited and nervous all at once.

"I love you because you're kind, and because you're pretty, and because you're the cleverest woman I've ever met and you never hesitate to remind me of it-"

"Joe, really," she blustered. "I didn't mean for you to-"

"And because you blush like that when I compliment you," he grinned. "You make me happy Els. You should know that."

"I do, thank you," she managed. "And you make me happy too, Joe, but…I've something to tell you."

"I've something to tell you too, so why don't you go first."

Elsie pulled the letter from her pocket. "Do you remember that job I applied for way back? The head housemaid position in Yorkshire?"

"Did they write you back about it?" Joe guessed.

"They did, they did," she told him, her stomach fluttering with excitement. "And Joe…they gave it to me."

"They didn't!" exclaimed Joe happily.

"They did!" she beamed, thrusting the letter in front of him. "'Miss Hughes, I am pleased to inform you that you have been offered the position of head housemaid at Downton Abbey.'"

"Look at that," said Joe, taking the letter from her. "'Very impressed with your interview' it says. That's my girl! Right impressive, you are." Joe gave her arm a squeeze. "I'm happy for you Els."

"Oh, Joe. Are you really?"

"I am," he promised her. "You got it because you're clever and hardworking and _impressive._ I'm proud of you Elsie, anybody would be."

"But…you're not upset?" She was ecstatic that he was so genuinely pleased for her, but surely he realized the implications for them, her moving all the way to Yorkshire. Joe didn't seem to have given that a thought yet.

"Well, you'll not actually go will you?" Joe said sensibly. "Isn't it enough that they've offer it to you?" He looked up and caught the crestfallen look on her face.

"Joe…"

Joe backtracked quickly. "Hold that thought, Els," he pleaded. "Just a minute until you hear my news, all right?"

Elsie swallowed. "All right."

Joe scrambled to his feet and offered her his hand. "Stand up for me?"

"Joe…"

"Please, Els. Would you for me? Please?" She never could resist him when he looked at her like that. She smiled, and he pulled her gently to her feet. He took both her hands carefully in his. The way he looked at her made her feel completely overwhelmed. Joe was the only man she'd ever loved and never had she thought him more wonderful than now.

"You and me, Elsie. We're really good together. I meant it when I said you make me happy and I think I could make you happy too. For the rest of my life it's all I want to do."

He knelt down and Elsie felt her heart skip. "Elsie Hughes, I love you beyond measure. Would you marry me?"

In front of her was a very earnest man, holding a simple wedding band and asking her a dreadfully important question. She wanted to. A part of her wanted to say yes so badly that it made her heart hurt. She longed to just nod her head and throw herself into his arms, but something held her back. Elsie knew it wasn't just the letter in her pocket.

"Joe…I…I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes," he half-joked.

She shook her head slowly, looking like she might burst into tears at any moment, and Joe got up from his knees. "Sit down Els," he urged, and they sunk back down onto his coat. Elsie sniffed, trying valiantly not to cry. Joe wrapped his arm around her. "What is it lass?" he asked her softly.

"Joe, I'm not sure I'm ready. To be your wife…to be Peter's mother…"

"Peter likes you," Joe pointed out. "And he doesn't even remember-"

"I still don't think I could replace her," said Elsie, pulling away from him. "You've never even told me about her, don't you think that's _odd_?"

"I didn't know you wanted to know about her," protested Joe. "What then would you like to know?"

"I don't know, anything," said Elsie, still flustered.

"Fine," said Joe shortly. "She was born Sarah Elizabeth Reid on November 30th 1861, we were married on February 1st 1889, She died of influenza on May 17th 1890. It was a bloody Saturday."

"Joe!" cried Elsie. "That's not what I meant."

Joe covered his face with his hands and took a moment to compose himself. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's very difficult to speak of her."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"But you have nothing to fear, Elsie," he told her, taking her hands. "I love you. How many times must I tell you that?"

Elsie looked down at his hands clasping hers. "Did you love her?" she asked very quietly.

Joe sighed. "Yes, Elsie, I did. And I'll not apologize for it."

"I wouldn't ask you to," Elsie said. "I just…needed to know. I don't know why."

"Well, I did love her. It's been six years, Elsie. You're not in her shadow. If you are, it's only in your head."

Elsie stared at the ground. Maybe Joe was right, maybe she was just using Sarah as an excuse. She loved Joe, she did. So why was she telling her self that over and over? And she loved Peter too. He was sweet lad. But she wasn't sure she was ready to be Mrs. Burns. There were other things in life she wanted. At least things she thought she wanted.

"Elsie, are you saying no?"

"I don't…I don't know what I want," she stammered.

Joe looked at her kindly, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "That's all right."

"Is it?" said Elsie, still miserable.

"Tell you what. Take the job. Go to this…Downton Abbey and be a housemaid for, say, six months. Take the ring with you. You don't have to wear it. Put on your necklace or something. Then in six months we'll met up and either you'll be wearing it on your finger or you'll be there to give it back to me. How does that sound?"

"You would do that?" Elsie sniffed.

"You are fiercely independent woman, Elsie, and I love that about you. But you also need to figure out what you want and I don't think I can help you any more than I already have. I love you and I'll wait, but not forever."

"Six months then?" she asked, taking the ring from him hesitantly.

"Six months," he nodded. "I'll leave it up to you if you want to write me in that time or not. Whatever you want."

Now she really did throw herself into his arms, though not with the tears of joy that were supposed to come at a marriage proposal. "Thank you," she murmured into his chest. "And I'm sorry."

"Don't be. But when you come back you better be sure."

"I will be, Joe. I promise." He stroked her back, and she felt herself calm down some. Nothing was decided. Nothing was over.

"What did your mother say about the letter?" Joe asked, hoping to cheer her up.

"I haven't told her yet. I wanted to tell you first," she explained. Joe couldn't help but smile at that.

"Well, we best be heading back so you can tell her," said Joe. "You'll still come for supper tonight? My Ma'm is expecting you."

"Course I will," Elsie nodded. "You didn't tell her about…?"

"No. It will be our secret for a little while. Six months."

"Six months," said Elsie, slipping the ring onto her necklace and tucking it out of sight under her blouse. "Six months."

* * *

><p>And so Elsie wrote back to Downton, accepting the position of head housemaid. She packed everything of importance into two old travelling cases that used to belong to her father, and left on the train the very next week. Joe and Peter both went to the station to see her off. Elsie left with an amicable kiss on the cheek from Joe and a promise that she would be back in the fall. She also left him a tin of detergent for Peter's next kitchen wall masterpiece. Peter didn't quite understand what was happening, but he waved her off happily, oblivious to his father's silent despair. Joe hoped very much that she would return from her adventure and be ready to settle down with him, but he also knew Elsie Hughes, and with her, well anything was possible.<p>

Elsie did correspond with Joe once she'd settled in at Downton. Their letters were light and unassuming, speaking of her duties, his crops, and the differences between Yorkshire and Scotland. They did not discuss his proposal, or anything related to it. That would be discussed in person, later.

As head housemaid Elsie found herself thrown into a world she didn't know a whole lot about, but she quickly learned. Where things were could be taught, but hard work and good sense were instilled in her already, and she did quite well. What's more Elsie found herself enjoying her new life. It was strange to think of a life of service as one of great freedom when she was at the beck and call of someone else from dawn till dusk, but for Elsie that was what it felt like. She like the feeling of earning her own wages, and of going to bed deliciously tired at the end of each day. She also very much enjoyed not having to cook, a task she had always abhorred and that she was quite happy to give up. The staff were a good lot, for the most part. Those she didn't care for didn't much bother her; save the occasional overly flirtatious footman whom she was more than capable of dealing with using a few choice words and the odd well placed glare.

This was not to say that she was never unhappy. The unhappiness in the big house was very different than any unhappiness she'd felt back home. Back home she often felt trapped by life on a farm, a slave to the seasons, the weather, and the earth. Back home there was a loneliness that came from seeing the same few people day in and day out. At Downton her loneliness came of her own devising, whenever she drew herself deliberately away from others. There was plenty of people for her to talk to at every meal and the entire village was available to her one half day every other week. Ripon and York were accessible by train. She quickly got used to having a much larger group of people to interact with, and found herself surprised at how much of their respect she seemed to inherently have. Service was a respectable life, and the higher one climbed the more respectable one was. Elsie Hughes had never lacked ambition.

She kept her arrangement with Joe a secret, for it wasn't anyone else's business. The ring stayed hidden beneath her clothing where it reminded her of her promise. She'd told him she would be sure when she went back and by the time six months were up, sure she was. She made plans to take a couple days off at the end of October, by saving up her half days. She wrote to Joe that she would visit the last Saturday of the month and she purchased her ticket out of her own pocket book the very next day. One round trip.

* * *

><p>"Essie!"<p>

It was Peter's voice she heard first, and then she spotted the boy sitting on his father shoulders and waving to her from the platform. Peter _could _say 'Elsie' properly these days, but she and Joe had thought it so entertaining back when he couldn't that they'd let the nickname stick. She had come back full of certainty, but just that one word out of Peter's mouth made her chest tighten.

"Elsie Hughes, look at you," said Joe, when she stepped off the train.

"Hello, Joe."

He couldn't help glancing down at her hand, but her gloves hid the information he wanted from view. Elsie did her best to pretend she hadn't seen it. "Hello, Peter," she greeted him, having to reach up to touch his arm. "I must say young man, you have grown considerably to be so much taller than me."

Peter laughed, and shook his head. Joe lifted him down with a groan. "You are too heavy, my lad."

"We tricked you!" Peter squealed.

"So you did," said Elsie, ruffling his hair.

Joe leaned in to speak to Elsie in a quieter tone. "Your mother would have liked to have met you off the train too, you should hear her go on about you. She's making supper now, says to tell you not to rush."

"Does she know about…?"

"No, but I think she suspects. Why don't we take the scenic route to your parents house?"

"With Peter?" murmured Elsie. It was bad enough that the boy was with Joe on the platform, but she was absolutely not going to refuse him in front of his son.

"No, he just wanted to see you. My mother is waiting in the station. She'll take him home."

"Seems like a lot of trouble."

"No trouble," insisted Joe. "At least, no trouble that wasn't worth it, Elsie." He smiled at her and Elsie swallowed hard. This was going to be much more difficult that she thought.

Joe turned his attention to his son. "Peter, go see Grandma," he urged, pointing him towards the woman smiling at them from the door of the train station. Thankfully Peter didn't question it, he just went. "I did tell her, Elsie. I'm sorry, I had too."

"That's perfectly all right," she replied.

He smiled, that soppy smile of his that seemed to be reserved for her. He took her bag from her and held out his other arm. "Shall we?"

She took it; sadly thinking it would probably be the last time it was ever offered to her. "Let's."

They did indeed take the scenic route back, the one that would take them beside the River Ness right to the spot he'd proposed to her. Elsie had spent the train ride composing her remarks, but they seemed so stilted and hollow now that the man was in front of her. When the got there they stopped and the idle chit-chat they'd been making faded into uncomfortable silence. Finally Joe posed the question that he figured by now he knew the answer to.

"Well?"

She was able to look him in the eye. He deserved that. "I thought about, Joe. I really did."

"And?"

She pulled the ring out of her pocket. "I'm really sorry, Joe."

"You're going to stay at Downton then?" he said, accepting it back.

"I am," she said softly.

"I understand," he told her.

"Do you?" she asked, her voice shaking now. He was so emotionless. It was almost frightening.

Joe sighed, and his disappointment showed finally. "No, not entirely, Elsie. But you're sure now and that's what I asked of you."

"I am sure," she whispered. "I thought you would be angry with me."

Joe looked mildly offended, "Have you ever seen me truly angry at you?"

"No," she admitted.

"I'm disappointed, Elsie. I'll not pretend I'm not. But I'm also not entirely surprised. You always did want more out of life than what I, or this place could give you."

Elsie wrinkled her brow. "Don't say it like that. You make me sound very ambitious. You're a good man, Joe. And your going to make someone else very happy, but I'm afraid it isn't going to be me."

"You _are_ very ambitious, Els. And if you ask me, there isn't anything wrong with that."

How he had managed to forgive her so quickly she did not know, but she was ever so grateful for it. "Thank you for saying that," she said. "You didn't have to."

"Course I did. Now come on, your mother is waiting to see you and fawn over you. Her daughter, the finest head housemaid in all of England."

At that she laughed, and felt considerably better. And he did offer her his arm again, this time only as her friend and she took it, happy that they were still on pleasant terms. He could have made her feel so miserable, and she felt a little miserable deep inside, but that was not his fault. She made her choice and he'd stuck by her anyways. If there were a nicer man in all the country, Elsie thought, she'd yet to meet him.

* * *

><p>Elsie and Joe maintained letter correspondence for the next several years. One cold December afternoon Elsie received a very long, excited, and poorly spelled letter explaining that he and a woman by the name of Ivy Grant were engaged to be married in the new year. (Joe was many lovely things, but an eloquent writer he was not.) Elsie was delighted to feel a surge of genuine happiness for him at the news and shed a few tears of joy over it alone in the servant's hall after tea. His happiness was clear to her, even through his wretched penmanship and she felt no jealousy and no sorrow at the news. He ended it with the words: <em>You may not have been meant to be my wife, but there will always be a place in my heart for you, Elsie. With affection. Joe.<em>

"Miss Hughes? Is everything alright?" Her head snapped up at the sound of the butlers voice and she scrambled to her feet.

"No, no, sit down," he said quickly, waving his hands.

"Everything is fine, Mr. Carson" she smiled, wiping her eyes. "An old friend is very happy, and it made me happy. That's all."

What a perfectly lovely soul she was, to be so overcome by such a thing, Mr. Carson thought to himself. Normally such emotional displays made him uncomfortable, but her smile was a radiant thing. "I see. Well, Miss Hughes, I'm pleased to hear it," he rumbled.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson," she said, folding up the letter. "I should be getting on with my work now."

He nodded. "Very good."

As she made to leave a thought occurred to him. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Umm, Miss Hughes?"

Elsie stopped short and turned to face him. "Yes, Mr. Carson?"

"You are happy with us here? At Downton, I mean?" It was an awkwardly worded question, he knew that the instant the words had left his mouth, but she just smiled that brilliant smile again.

"_Very_, Mr. Carson."

**~The End~**


End file.
